


Torn

by crna_macka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3422510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crna_macka/pseuds/crna_macka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Raven finally wins whatever battle she's fighting inside, she draws taut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torn

**Author's Note:**

> 15\. Hurt/comfort fill for the [28-day challenge](http://the-100-femslash.tumblr.com/post/109795013900/do-you-write-fics-do-you-love-the-100-are-you-a)
> 
> References 2x09.

There isn't a chance to properly redress Raven's wounds until they get back to the Ark. Raven barely even let Abby check the cuts while they were camped in the woods, and she certainly wouldn't have allowed Abby to tend to her with anything supplied by the Grounders.

So it's back at Camp Jaha that Abby corners Raven in the radio room and orders Wick to take his work elsewhere so she can tend to their mechanic. Raven's disapproval is clear, expected, and little deterrent to the doctor.

"I can't leave the radio," Raven says stubbornly. 

"I know." Abby doesn't need Raven's full attention for this or even her help. She _does_ need to peel away three layers of clothing from Raven's torso, and the girl lets her do that without pushing her away. The kids' radio message continues to loop.

She can take care of Raven's arms without asking her to move. Strips away the dirty bandages, gently cleans the skin, applies ointment, rewraps the angry slices. The most Raven does is wince and clench her jaw and stare straight ahead, as though enough concentration would let her see through the transmissions and right into Mount Weather.

But then Abby has to get to the bandages on Raven's midsection, where Indra's knife drew across her ribs and another warrior cut below her breasts. "Raven," she says, not ordering or asking but pushing firmly against Raven's hip as she takes the desk chair. Raven's body angles in response but her gaze stays locked on the electronics. Abby glances up from her hands, but it could just be a trick of the light, making Raven's eyes seem watery. 

The woman's muscles are trembling when her stomach is finally bare, and Abby lets the skin breathe as she peels away the higher bandage. "Lift the edge of your bra," she says before she gets far enough to have to pause. Raven does so, but shifts under Abby's touch and draws a shaky breath.

She automatically assesses the response. "Does it hurt?" The area around the cut doesn't look much worse than the others, although the pull and pressure of elastic and fabric near the site are less than ideal.

Raven swallows and shakes her head minutely; yes, those are tears. Abby lets her hands drop back down to Raven's waist, fingertips tracing soothingly over skin away from the injuries.

"Do you want to talk?"

"No," Raven grits out. Abby can hear the rawness collected in her throat. The realization that she's so familiar now with the sound of Raven's pain makes Abby's chest tighten unpleasantly. She doesn't push through the mechanic's bravado but lets her light touch stay low for a few more moments of respite. 

When Raven finally wins whatever battle she's fighting inside, she draws taut. Abby takes that as her cue to resume. Gently cleans the skin, applies ointment, starts to rewrap from the top despite the way Raven bites her lip.

She interrupts when Abby is reaching for a new roll of bandages for her ribs. "Abby." The way she speaks the name is clipped. "Just. Let me do the rest myself."

Abby scoffs at the dismissal and continues her ministrations until Raven's hands still her wrists and hold her away from the released shudder. "Stop. I can't -" Behind Raven's eyes, there is a flash of panic and apology and - Abby stops. She gets it now.

"It's okay," she offers automatically. "I'll be quick here. Jackson can do this next time, if you'd be more comfortable."

Raven releases her but fidgets through the rest of the binding. She jerks back when Abby finishes her final check. She doesn't apologize, even though it's heavy in her stance and voice. "I hate that you see me like this."

Abby carefully sets aside the remaining bandages but doesn't move from the desk yet. "Like what?"

"Injured. Crippled. Weak." Raven rolls her eyes at herself and laughs bitterly. "I hate that this is all I get to be anymore."

Her clothes and crutch are still - unintentionally - on the other side of the woman she's avoiding even looking at. Abby picks up the threadbare grey tank and brings it closer as a peace offering.

"You've never been weak," she states, quiet but with as much conviction as she can muster.

Raven takes the shirt without meeting her gaze and struggles into it.

"Injured is better than dead," she adds.

Shoulders covered, Raven leans back against the wall, taking some of her weight off her legs and allowing her to box herself in. "And being a gimp?"

Abby suppresses a sigh. "You're a smart girl, Raven. When the war is over, you'll figure out a dozen different ways around it."

"I don't want to wait for the war to be over."

She doesn't shrug Abby off this time when she tentatively touches her arm, and she doesn't resist when Abby pulls her into a hug. Raven lets it happen and hides her face against the woman's shoulder. She doesn't cry when Abby holds her.

"So don't." Abby isn't sure why she says it; it's hardly sound advice. It isn't a realistic scenario, but none of the realistic ones are reassuring. And yet this is Raven Reyes - realistic expectations don't apply.


End file.
